


At the Day Spa

by vktr



Category: DCU
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Jason Todd, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:47:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23645629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vktr/pseuds/vktr
Summary: Jason finds Roman having a relaxing time at a day spa. He just needs some information to get Batman off his back, but Roman is insistent on Jason enjoying himself too. He also really, really wants Jason to have a massage…
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Jason Todd
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	At the Day Spa

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I’ve created a new account solely for posting utterly indulgent, dirty bad wrong fics here because I don’t want to post these on my main writing account.
> 
> HAVE YALL SEEN THE BOP MOVIE cos Roman is ridiculous in it (in an amazing way)
> 
> Anyway I was inspired by a freaking (semi?)public sex porno because I love voyeurism and potentially getting caught?? Yum yum yum
> 
> **Detailed warnings at the end of the fic! Please heed the tags, this fic contains non/dub-con.**

The sight of Roman sprawled out on a lounge chair, dressed in nothing but a white robe and dangling a glass of champagne in one hand is not something Jason has ever imagined, but now it’ll be something he’ll never forget.

Roman’s skin is flushed and damp, as if he just came out of a sauna. His legs, arms, and what Jason can see of his chest are full of dark, coarse hair, a fact that Jason is only finding out now because he never sees Roman in anything less than a suit.

He stands there staring for way longer than is socially appropriate—especially with two bodyguards in the room—but there’s something so fascinating about the sight. It’s the same feeling he gets during those rare times Roman acts like a normal human being.

“Red, my boy, what can I do for you?” Roman asks, tilting his head over to look at him.

“What are you doing in here?” Jason asks, and if he sounds slightly hysterical it’s because he’s been trying to contact Roman all morning only for his calls to end up going straight to voicemail. Bruce has been up his ass about getting information on a shipment due to arrive tonight—so finding Roman was a priority, especially because he doesn’t doubt that Bruce _will_ pull him out of this mission if he can’t even achieve this one simple task.

He’d asked all of Roman’s lieutenants, all the grunts he passed by in the hallways, but none of them seemed to know or care where he was, taking their perceived free time to stand around and shoot the shit. It’s only when he bumped into his secretary did she inform him of Roman’s whereabouts.

“Day spa?” Jason had asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she snapped. Then, more patronisingly, “Do I need to enlighten you as to what that is?”

“I know what a day spa is,” Jason snapped back. “I meant where is it?”

Roman’s secretary, Ms. Li, always treats Jason like shit whenever Roman isn’t around. Jason wouldn’t mind so much, except that whenever Roman _is_ around, she acts like the biggest kiss-ass in the universe, always getting Jason tea and making polite small talk. It’s jarring. He’s pretty sure that she hates him, treating Jason like a child, like he’s slow, making comments that _sound_ benign but Jason knows are meant to dig into him.

For some reason, he has a strange inkling that it all might come from a place of jealousy. The only incident he can think of that might have caused her hostility towards him was a few weeks back, when she caught Jason stumbling out of Roman’s penthouse at seven in the morning after an alcohol-fuelled night of fooling around like a pair of high school virgins.

Jason regrets that night very much, but Roman only holds fond memories of it, and the few other times like it. He’s come to love reminding Jason of their affair at the most inopportune times.

Like now.

“Have you come to be my masseuse? I’d love another happy ending.” Jason can hear the slimy grin under that mask.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Jason says, as unaffected as he can manage. He needs to act professionally, especially considering that the bodyguards standing by the back wall and pretending to stare stonily ahead are obviously listening in to the conversation. “Have you been here all day?”

“Mmm.” Roman takes a long sip of his drink then smacks his lips obnoxiously.

Jason flushes hot with annoyance. “You need to have one of these goons hold your fucking phone. I’ve been calling you.”

“Aww,” Roman coos patronisingly, “have I been neglecting you?”

“I need to talk to you about tonight,” Jason pushes, fighting against every urge that wants to talk back. Talking back only leads to banter and _that_ will lead to—

Christ, he doesn’t even want to _think_ it.

“You’re usually more fun, Red. Stressful day?”

“The shipment coming in tonight,” Jason continues, ignoring him, “I got reason to believe your security detail ain’t gonna be enough to keep it safe.”

Roman hums, taking another sip. “The Carmine shipment?”

“Yes,” Jason says, feeling somewhat relieved at the thought that Roman seems willing to talk. “I want to know where it’ll be coming, what time.”

Roman turns his head and looks at Jason straight on. Jason can feel his eyes boring into his face. “Why do you think it won’t be safe?” he asks.

“The Batman’s caught on. He might be there tonight.”

“Oh, well, that _is_ a problem,” Roman says, sounding like he gives fuck all. “Come sit and have a drink, let’s discuss it.”

“Roman—”

“Sit. Relax. I’ll handle it.”

Jason can’t help but snap, “Sorry if I’d rather be productive than sit on my ass all day.”

Roman freezes at that. It’s barely perceptible, but Jason notices how he goes rigid, and he can sense the anger brewing underneath that mask. To his surprise though, instead of yelling, Roman tuts. “You’re so uptight, Red. Perhaps you’d like a massage? Work some of that stress out of your muscles.”

“No, thank you.”

“Don’t be so quick to turn it down, you’re underestimating just how good a massage can be,” Roman says, leaning back again as he untenses, swirling his champagne around. “Who tipped you off anyway? About the Bat?”

“What can I say, I got friends in dark places.”

A soft, little, “Hmph,” is the only response Roman gives, and Jason can only hope that that’s an indication that he’s been convinced.

Just as Jason’s about to prompt him for the information again, Roman gets to his feet and heads for the door.

“Well?” he says, when Jason doesn’t move. “Get undressed, put on a robe.”

Jason blinks. “What?”

A soft sigh escapes Roman’s lips, the only thing that betrays his dwindling patience. “I’ll give you the details, but I’m getting bored of being in here, so you’ll have to follow me.”

Jason doesn’t move, too perturbed by the request.

Harshly now, Roman says, “Well, are you going to stand there looking pretty all day or are you going to take off your clothes?”

“I’ll head to a change room,” he decides. “Leave my stuff in a locker.”

“Aw. Red over here is shy, boys.”

Jason glances up at the bodyguards in the room, but their faces remain blank.

“I’m just choosing what’s most practical. Wouldn’t want anyone touching my guns.”

“Yes, _that’s_ what you’re most worried about anyone touching,” Roman says lowly as he turns away and heads out the door.

Sometimes Jason wonders if he just doesn’t care that he’s setting himself up for these kinds of comments, or if he secretly likes the shit that comes out of Roman’s mouth.

He always decides that it’s best not to dwell too much on it.

***

“And this is the second pool,” Roman says as they come to a stop in front of another door, ending their impromptu tour.

“That was lovely,” Jason says. “It’s so nice seeing you so happy. I know that when people get older they find it hard to pick up hobbies, but you seem to be doing quite well for yourself.”

“Cracking jokes, Jason? See? You’re more relaxed already.”

He’s very tempted to just give up on this whole thing and leave. “Where is it that you wanted to go?” he asks instead.

“There’s a hot tub inside here,” Roman says, nodding at the door, “right beside the pool. Hardly anyone uses it, and it’s big enough to fit you.”

“You calling me fat?” Jason says as he follows Roman through the door.

“I’m calling you big. Don’t pretend you don’t know what you look like.”

Their feet splash on the wet tiles, and again, Jason can’t help but stare at Roman’s exposed skin. His legs are so pale it seems like he never exposes them to the sun. And that may be true—he probably wears full-body suits to tropical islands.

He continues staring as Roman disrobes, leaving himself in a pair of maroon swimming trunks that, honestly, look incredibly good paired with Roman’s skin tone.

For all his organised criminality and general unpleasantness, Roman does enjoy his luxuries and class. Perhaps his physical appearance is something he takes pride in, takes extra care of. He wouldn’t be surprised if the maroon was a conscious choice.

“Well? Are you getting in?” Roman says, already settled in one corner, his arms spread out to each side, tilting his head back.

Jason steps in, and his skin is greeted by the hot, soothing water of the tub. He immediately wants to sink in to his neck. When he sits down, the water jets along the sides and bottom of the tub shoot massaging streams of water against his back and legs, and a content sigh escapes his lips.

“Nice, isn’t it?”

Jason responds with something noncommittal, immediately tense again at the sound of Roman’s voice.

“Don’t worry,” Roman says, brushing a hand so quickly against Jason’s calf he isn’t sure it‘s deliberate, “I come here so often and tip so well, I’m a favourite. They don’t mind me bringing in new faces, nor do they give a fuck about what I do with them.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Jason reverts to his default state of insulting Roman.

“Why do you even come here? This is the last place a guy like you would wanna be at. And it’s not like a facial is gonna be helping _that_ any time soon.” He gestures towards Roman’s face.

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t waste my time on _facials._ There are many other services in a day spa, Red. Have you really never been in one?”

“You just don’t seem the type of guy to enjoy stuff like this.”

“It isn’t that I _enjoy_ it, it’s more so that it helps me stop exploding on men like you who _love_ testing my patience.”

“I thought you loved it when I pulled on your pigtails.”

“If it wasn’t obvious, Jason, that was a hint that you should shut up.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that—”

“Excuse me?”

Jason jolts, shocked by the quiet approach of a young couple at the side of the tub.

“Do you mind moving over so we can sit together?”

Jason only hesitates for a second before he scoots over and shoots a look of warning at Roman who doesn’t even seem to see it.

“We should leave,” he whispers, watching the couple climb in and sit.

“Why?” Roman murmurs back.

“Let ‘em have their privacy.”

“This is a spa, you want privacy, you go to a whorehouse.”

Jason purses his lips. He tries untensing and letting the jets do their work, but he’s just so on edge being so close to Roman.

He only shuts his eyes for a second when he feels a slight pressure against his inner thigh. He opens his eyes, but there’s nothing there; Roman’s hands are resting on his side. Jason chalks it up to one of the jets and shuts his eyes again.

He can hear a couple people splashing around in the pool, a few conversations, but it all fades away into white noise, and soon, he thinks he might finally be relaxing.

He feels the pressure against his thigh again though, and this time, Roman isn’t fast enough moving his arm back. Jason glares at him but his eyes are shut, pretending to be asleep.

He nudges Roman’s knee with his own, then does it again when he doesn’t react.

Roman puts his hand on Jason’s thigh, clamping down hard so he can’t move it. Jason glances up to check if the couple has noticed, but they look too embroiled in one another to care.

“Stop,” Roman whispers.

 _“You_ stop,” Jason whispers urgently.

“Relax.”

Jason feels Roman’s hand run a few times up and down his thigh, then it travels further up, his fingers tucking into the leg of his trunks.

Jason jerks his leg, trying to dislodge Roman’s hand without bringing too much attention to their side of the tub.

Roman doesn’t go much farther; he stops and withdraws, and Jason breathes a sigh of relief, but then he tucks his hand behind Jason’s back, running his fingers up and down Jason’s spine. The sensation, coupled with the massage from the jets, feels absolutely euphoric; tingles run up his spine and into his scalp, and his toes curl.

It’s only when Roman’s fingers dip into his waistband does he utter a sound of protest. “Don’t,” he whispers.

But Roman’s fingers dig deeper, rubbing and squeezing his cheek, then brushing a finger against his ass crack.

Jason goes rigid. He grabs Roman’s wrist in a bid to physically stop him, but Roman stubbornly continues.

“I’ll leave,” Jason threatens.

“I’ll pull down your shorts,” Roman fires back.

It’s a juvenile threat, but it works somehow, and Jason doesn’t dare move away with Roman’s hold on him.

Roman turns his head as if looking over his shoulder at the pool, but Jason can hear the low chuckle right in his ear.

“What if more people come?” Jason asks.

“You can sit on my lap,” Roman answers, voice low and deep, barely audible over the room’s ambience, but somehow managing to make Jason shiver.

Jason’s jaw clenches, and he almost bites his tongue when Roman’s fingers travel further downwards, rubbing lightly against the one spot no one has ever touched.

 _“Stop,”_ Jason hisses a little too loudly, the couple glancing over their way.

Thankfully, Roman does stop, removing his hand completely and resting it around Jason’s shoulders.

“If you hadn’t panicked…”

But Jason wasn’t even panicking, he was just _asking_ Roman to stop, though he supposes that doesn’t matter to a sociopath like him. Sometimes Jason forgets, in between all the messing around and banter, that Roman is a fucking lunatic and he cannot be trusted to act like a decent human being.

Apparently Roman has noticed the tension though, as instead of trying to convince Jason to stay, he gets up and out of the water, wrapping his robe around himself. Jason follows quickly after, catching up with him in the hallway.

“Well?” he snaps. “Have you decided to stop jerking me around? I did what you wanted, now give me the info.”

“You’re no fun,” Roman says petulantly.

“I don’t have time for fun.”

“You had time to suck me off under my desk last Thursday.”

Jason’s cheeks immediately go hot, but he forces himself not to react any more than that. That’s what Roman wants from him, a reaction, and he’ll be damned if he lets Roman get it.

“The information, Roman,” he prompts again. “I’d hate for the Bat to come in and scoop up those shipments you worked so hard for.”

Roman stares at him, silent, and Jason feels himself being studied. Then, as if satisfied with what he sees, he nods his head once and gestures down the hall.

“Let’s go back to my room. I’ll take you through tonight.”

As Roman runs through the shipment and pick-up in its entirety, Jason happily commits it all to memory, thankful that this will be the last time he ever has to do something like this.

***

Of course, the next time Jason is given a task that involves Roman, he’s at the day spa again.

“Again?” Jason asks, while Ms. Li looks up at him over the top of her glasses.

“Yes. Again,” she says, impatience dripping from every word. “As I said before, he schedules it every second Sunday.”

“Christ. I forgot, alright?”

“And that’s why I’m the secretary, and you’re the grunt.” And with that, she spins away and walks down the hall, her heels clicking against the floor.

Jason is sorely tempted to call her back and tell her to do it herself.

It’s a simple enough task anyway, barely even important, and it would easily be over and done with a phone call, but Roman doesn’t like to be interrupted while he’s at the spa so he has his phone turned off and specific orders not to be bothered by the staff or his guards.

The only exception is Jason, however, as evidenced by last time, and he doesn’t want to look too much into why that may be.

“Coming all the way here just to tell you that Fontaine was arrested is utterly ridiculous, I hope you know.”

He’s standing in front of Roman’s prone body as the masseuse navigates around Jason to start on Roman’s left side.

“I do know that,” Roman answers, voice muffled in the face cradle. “I was the one who told Li to make up a reason to send you here. The fact that you believed her is your fault.”

Jason can’t believe what he’s hearing. _“What?”_

Roman sighs. “Sometimes I‘m reminded just how young you are.”

Jason doesn’t even know how to respond to that.

“Mark,” Roman says, and the masseuse leans down to listen, “would you prepare a table? Right here next to us is fine.”

“Roman,” Jason says as soon as the masseuse leaves the room, “I’m fine, I don’t need a massage, I got shit to do—”

“Nonsense.” Roman doesn’t even look up. “You have nothing else to do today. I cleared your schedule.”

“You cleared my—what fucking schedule?”

“You were going to meet with Kean today, right? I’ve already arranged someone else to go instead. You aren’t needed there.”

Jason is speechless. “You _planned_ this—why the fuck did you plan to lure me here? If you brought me all the way here just to make me get a massage, I’m telling you, I’m just gonna leave.”

Roman finally looks up, and if he had a face, Jason’s sure it would be pouting. “If you wanted to walk out, you would’ve already. Stop playing coy and take off your clothes.”

Jason grits his teeth and turns to walk away.

The room isn’t exactly private—there are archways instead of doors and long curtains draped over each. These are the only things separating each massage room from each other—if Jason pokes his head through the curtain, he’ll see the poor, naked customer on the massage table next door; he can hear the masseuse murmuring to them. For a five-star day spa, they really cut corners when it comes to their customers’ privacy.

Now, Jason isn’t shy, but he knows when to draw certain lines, especially when it comes to Roman. Being stuck naked in a semi-private room with him and only a masseuse to come between them sounds like a sure-fire way to invite disaster—or if not disaster, a very large amount of embarrassment and shame.

But god knows Roman is shameless.

Before he can take a step, something hooks around his belt and keeps him there. He looks back, seeing Roman holding onto him.

“Leaving without being dismissed?” Roman says, his voice low.

“I’ve never needed to be dismissed before. Let _go,”_ Jason hisses. “This is juvenile.”

“Juvenile boys get juvenile treatment.” Roman pushes up from the table and gets to his feet, the towel covering his dick falling to the ground. He pulls Jason closer to him as he leans in, and Jason can see the anger clearly in his eyes.

Which is why he’s so shocked when Roman cups his other hand around his dick. He jerks away, but Roman pulls him closer again, tutting.

“Kinda weird that you call me a juvenile boy, then you do this,” Jason points out.

Roman’s hand unhooks from his belt, but he shifts his grip to around his waist, pulling him flush against his body. Jason shivers at the feeling of Roman’s cock against his, his thoughts taking him back to the one night they dry humped on his ottoman. Roman obviously feels it; he chuckles in Jason’s ear and gives one slow drive of his hips.

“I thought you liked it when I talked dirty to you,” Roman whispers.

“Is that what that was?” Jason asks. “Gotta say, you could use some work.”

“Seemed like you didn’t care so much last time how I treated you, so long as you got off.”

“You calling me easy?”

“You are,” Roman says. “For me.”

Jason tilts his head to the side when Roman presses the teeth of his mask against his neck, and something in Jason’s heart aches when he realises it’s meant to be a kiss.

Of course, that’s when Roman grabs him and shoves him onto the massage table.

He lands with a _thump_ that is much too loud—he’s afraid someone’s going to come in and investigate, so when Roman undoes his belt, pulling it out through the loops, he doesn’t dare make a sound. Instead he struggles silently, trying to pull his hands away and failing miserably when he’s distracted by Roman digging his knee into his crotch. His hands slowly slide up Jason’s sides and practically tear his shirt open.

He tries one last time to bat Roman’s hands away, and to his surprise, Roman backs off. Jason blinks, watching him closely in case it’s some kind of fake out, but Roman keeps his distance. Confused, he sits up, reaching for his belt.

The masseuse chooses this moment to come through the hallway curtain, wheeling in another massage table.

“Ah,” he says, catching eye of Jason, “you’ve started undressing? Good.”

Jason freezes, aiming a glare at Roman who now conveniently has his back turned.

“Yeah,” he says reluctantly, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Fucking Roman.

“Mr. Sionis,” the masseuse says, locking the table in place, “are you done with your massage?”

“No, I just needed a glass of water,” Roman says, turning to show the glass in his hand. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

“Of course.”

When Jason’s done undressing, a second masseuse enters the room and introduces himself, whilst the first attends to Roman. Jason follows the masseuse’s directions and lays down on the massage table, resting his face in the cradle, feeling the masseuse lay a towel over his ass—as if he hasn’t already seen hundreds of people’s junk, though Jason supposes it’s meant to be more for his comfort.

He starts with Jason’s legs, beginning long strokes from his ankles up to his knees.

“Your muscles are very tight,” the masseuse comments. “Are you an athlete?”

Jason lies, “I play a lot of hockey.”

The masseuse hums. “You should have a massage more often. You don’t have a physical therapist?”

“No, I don’t play professionally or anything.”

“Still, it seems like you play a lot. You should remember to take care of your body.”

The masseuse presses deeper, harder on Jason’s muscles. If Jason hadn’t felt anything before, he definitely feels it now. The chronic soreness in his legs that Jason had assumed would never go away is exacerbated somewhat by the pressure from the masseuse’s hands. But it also feels… relieving? Like the masseuse is loosening up the tightness inside.

Eventually the masseuse moves up to his back, again beginning long strokes up Jason’s spine. Jason is taken off guard by how good it feels, and a little unbidden moan comes out of his mouth. He snaps his mouth shut as soon as it happens, but he swears he hears everyone in the room stop and look at him.

The masseuse doesn’t comment, continuing on with the back massage, and Jason is grateful. He’s so skilful that Jason immediately forgets about that little embarrassment, his breathing turning slow and deep, falling into a deep state of relaxation.

Next is his arms, then the masseuse makes him turn over onto his back so he can massage his head, chest, and abdomen. He has a lot more tightness in his upper body muscles, the masseuse is quick to feel these areas out though, and he spends more time kneading at them and ensuring they’re all worked out.

Jason starts drifting off again, the pleasure very quickly outweighing the pain, and he shuts his eyes, a blissful sigh escaping his lips.

“I can lay a towel over your eyes if you want?” the masseuse whispers.

“Mmm,” is all Jason says, and he hopes the masseuse takes it for the affirmative it is. He’s so in tune with Jason’s body, he’s starting to consider coming back to this guy regularly.

Maybe Roman was right about something.

The masseuse does lay a towel over Jason’s eyes, and Jason grunts a thanks as he goes back to working out the tightness in Jason’s abs.

He thinks he hears a quiet murmuring, but he isn’t sure if it’s coming from this room or the next, so he ignores it and sinks back into his small, little piece of dreamland.

“Turn over again, please,” the masseuse says after a while, taking the towel from Jason’s eyes, and Jason turns over despite feeling a little disappointed at being disrupted.

He feels the masseuse start on his legs again, but higher up—his fingers dig deep into his thighs, stroking all the way up to under his buttocks. It’s almost uncomfortable how close he is to touching Jason’s ass, but he trusts this masseuse, and so he lets him continue.

It does get a little strange though, when a stray nail runs along Jason’s cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake and sending shivers up Jason’s spine. He takes it as an accident—at least, until the fingers travel upwards to the small of his back and press in, dragging downwards over his ass.

Then he realises it’s a _full_ body massage.

Well, he didn’t mentally prepare himself for any of this, but fuck it, he’s game.

The towel has been pushed down to his thighs, and when the masseuse strokes his hands up and down like he was before, Jason can’t say he’s getting much out of it other than feeling like someone’s playing with his ass.

When he feels fingers run up his inner thigh and brush against his balls though, he has to speak up.

“Awful long time you’re spending back there.”

The hands pause and pull away.

A few moments later, the masseuse says, “Sorry. If you’d like to move one last time onto your back, I’ll finish our session with a foot massage.”

There’s no hint of shame in the masseuse’s voice, so Jason figures that little brush was just an accident. He turns over onto his back, feeling a little sad but also grateful that this is almost over.

The foot massage is nice enough, but then he feels the masseuse come around to the side of his head, and then there’s a hand back on his chest again. Except, this time, it feels different. The hand doesn’t do much more than cup his pec, and there’s a thumb just lightly circling his nipple.

His eyes shoot open when he feels something prodding at his lips that’s definitely too thick to be a finger. He’s greeted by the sight of Roman’s cock hovering over his face.

He bites back the loud exclamation wanting to escape his lips, shoving him away instead.

Roman just comes right back though, and Jason notices that he is hard. Very hard.

“Don’t just whip your dick out all willy-nilly—” Jason whispers harshly.

“Sorry, what was that? My what?”

Jason stares at him. “Your _dick,_ you asshole—”

“Wanna speak a little louder? Narrate _everything_ that’s happening in here for the people next door?”

He realises then what Roman has done. Jason shoves him away again. “Let me up. I’m leaving.”

Roman twists his fingers through Jason’s hair and pulls him back down. He leans in, mouth right next to Jason’s ear, and says, “Uh-uh. You make any commotion in here at all, someone is gonna come through that curtain and what do you think they’re gonna see? It’s already suspicious that we’re alone together in this room.”

Jason is speechless. “You’re fucking insane.”

Roman digs his fingers into his scalp briefly before letting up. “I am? Then why do you spend so much time with me in my office? Why do you moan like a whore when I so much as _touch_ you?”

The glare that Jason gives him is staunch but resigned. Roman knows he’s won.

“See? You’re just as insane as me,” he says smugly. “Now open your fucking mouth.”

***

It’s ridiculous how far Jason will go to satisfy him when he’s given a little push.

Roman only had to tell him some bullshit about getting caught, but he’s paid off everyone in here not to interrupt him for anything. Ah, well, one little lie never hurt anybody.

Especially not Jason, who looks especially eager to lick his cock, even if he is staring at Roman like he wants to stab him. Roman knows it’s how he gets off half the time, pretending that he doesn’t want it and letting Roman take advantage of him.

Roman can do that for him. He can show him what he wants, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

Jason keeps his mouth open, and Roman slaps his cock against his lips a few times before sliding the head in, enjoying the way Jason’s expression turns more annoyed.

“Lick,” he orders, and Jason’s tongue clumsily swirls around the head. He keeps glaring though, and Roman is tempted to tell him just how fucking stupid he looks trying to be tough with a dick in his mouth, but he opts for laying the face towel over his eyes.

Jason snatches it off straight away.

“Hey,” he hisses, “you don’t want anyone to see you, leave this on your face.” He puts the towel on him again.

“Nn—!”

Roman keeps a firm grip on the towel, pressing it down tight, especially over his nose, making it impossible for Jason to close his mouth.

Doesn’t stop Jason from struggling though—he grabs hold of Roman’s arm and tries to get him to pull away. What Roman’s learnt is that when Jason is acting up like this, it’s best to keep him occupied. With his other hand, he tilts Jason’s head to the side, making it easier to slide his dick further into his mouth.

Jason gags a little, but Roman doesn’t stop, pulling out and thrusting in hard again, in and out, in and out, until he hears Jason choking and spluttering against his dick.

“You gonna be good now?” he asks, leaning down to whisper. “If I get that rough with you again, your choking’s gonna be obvious to anyone listening in.”

Jason coughs a few more times to clear his throat. “Do what you want,” he snaps. Roman does love it when he plays hard to get.

When he lets go, Jason doesn’t try to fight anymore. He sucks obediently on Roman’s dick, even sucks harder when Roman starts playing with his tits.

God. Those fucking tits. Jason might not have the sort of body that Roman usually likes playing with, but those _tits._ He hasn’t tried fucking them yet, but after today, he could probably make Jason do anything. He’ll _own_ him after today.

He feels like a fucking god, doing whatever he wants, tugging on the Red Hood’s nipples and smacking his goddamn hips against his face as he fucks his throat. He grabs hold of his balls for good measure, a warning that if he tries anything, he’s in for a world of pain.

And now Jason keeps making these small, high noises as he slurps up Roman’s dick, like he’s acting so reluctant but there’s something deep inside him that is _enjoying_ the act, enjoying being degraded and used. _Fuck,_ he’s such a self-denying slut, Roman _loves_ it.

He runs his fingers through Jason’s hair, and Jason leans into the touch like a dog. When Roman twists his fingers through his locks and pulls, forcing Jason off his cock, Jason tries to sit up and follow, his mouth open and searching until Roman shoves him back down.

He moves around to the bottom of the table and climbs on, kneeling between Jason’s legs. It’s a little tricky, especially with the massage oil making him slip and slide around the table, but he manages to sit and find a stable position, with his knees shoved under Jason’s, hands gripping his thighs.

Jason speaks up. “Wait.”

“Why?”

“We’ll get caught!”

“Only if you’re loud. You won’t get loud, will you?”

Jason looks around the room, like he’s looking for help. When he meets eyes with Roman again, he says, _“Please.”_

Roman huffs a laugh. “Don’t be pathetic.” He reaches for the bottle of oil on the counter and doesn’t hesitate to pop it open and pour it all over his fingers.

Jason makes a quick movement, and Roman isn’t expecting it—he knees the bottle out of his hands, and it hits the counter and falls to the floor with several thunks, accompanied by the sound of oil splattering everywhere.

Roman freezes, and Jason starts inching away like he’s going to make a break for it. Roman grabs him by the balls again, squeezing hard, digging his nails in.

“This is only going to hurt more for you if you act like that,” he hisses over the sound of Jason gasping in pain.

 _“Stop._ Don’t—”

“They can’t see you,” Roman reminds him, letting go. “They won’t hear you either if you stay quiet.”

He pushes right up against him, legs spread wide so that there’s no way Jason can slip his own free, stuck as they are, wrapped around Roman’s waist.

“You fucked up kicking that oil away.” He holds his hand up. “This is all you’re getting now.”

He reaches down between Jason’s legs, going by feel instead of sight—he wants to watch Jason, wants to see every emotion that crosses his face. He wants to see the pain, the pleasure, the _shame._ A shiver runs down his spine just thinking about it.

His fingertips run down Jason’s perineum, and Jason starts trembling a little, though his strong brow stays glaring. When his fingers find that slightly raised, tender bit of skin, he doesn’t dare look away when he presses a finger in and Jason’s glare turns into pure shock.

His eyes go wide, his jaw drops open, and the tiniest little moan escapes his lips. If Roman could smile, he’d be grinning.

“No, no,” Jason whispers, even as he clenches around Roman’s finger, his body begging for more. “No, I can’t—I can’t—”

Roman shushes him, pushing in deep and curling his finger up, pressing against his walls until—

“Oh— _oh,”_ punches out of Jason’s lips, a breathy little exclamation and yet so loud in the quiet of the room.

Roman is quite tempted to take his time, but the thought of bombarding Jason with sensation until he’s just so overwhelmed he fucking _breaks_ has Roman giving into his more impatient side.

He slides another finger inside him, and when he curls them into his prostate, he makes sure to press hard, in pulses, until Jason’s jerking against his hand. Then he changes gears, thrusting his arm so hard against Jason he’s moved up and down the table, and the squelch of the oil inside him becomes too loud in the quiet of the room.

Jason’s mouth doesn’t shut the entire time, and his gaze stays fixed on the ceiling like he’s looking for help from the heavens. His fingers are turning white where they’re wrapped around the edges of the massage table, hanging on for dear life.

When Roman yanks his fingers out, Jason jolts, and he doesn’t have time to recover before Roman scoots even closer, rubbing the rest of the oil on his hand on his cock, positioning it at Jason’s entrance.

Jason starts panicking when Roman dips the head of his cock in teasingly before pulling away again. “Wait, please—”

Roman sighs impatiently, but he pauses—he doesn’t want Jason freaking out and causing a scene.

“I don’t feel prepared,” Jason whispers desperately.

 _“I’ve_ done this before,” Roman says, rolling his eyes. “So I know when you’re prepared. You’re prepared.”

“Roman—”

Roman ignores him, pushing in again and sighing in frustration when Jason tenses up so much Roman can barely fit in an inch.

“Don’t worry,” Roman says, softening his tone a little, trying to get the boy to _relax_ so he can fit his fucking cock inside, “I’ve had sex with dozens of people before you, I was fucking people before you were even born. I know what I’m doing.”

Jason gives him an unimpressed look.

Roman chuckles. “Don’t be jealous, Red, it’s unbecoming of you. If it helps, I wasn’t quite as handsome as I am now, believe me.”

“Oh, har har.”

He reaches down between them, running a finger around Jason’s rim. He seems to like it, his eyelids fluttering and lips parting with a gasp, so Roman does it until he loosens up. He tries entering again, and though Jason is still tight, he manages to slide in all the way.

Jason’s face twists up in pain, his brows draw low over his eyes, a grimace marrs those pretty lips. His legs grow tense, coiled tight around Roman, and Roman’s sure he’s going to have a few bruises along his sides unless Jason eases up.

He grabs Jason’s legs and pushes them up towards his chest. Thankfully, the brat is kind of flexible so he doesn’t complain about being bent in half.

The new angle seems to agree well with Jason—these soft, little breathy _ah’s_ keep escaping his lips every time Roman thrusts in. He keeps staring at Jason’s open mouth and thinking about what a waste it is that it’s being unused. He should’ve asked one of the masseuses to stay—Jason’s was already feeling him up at Roman’s direction, it wouldn’t have taken much more to get him to fuck Jason’s mouth.

He speeds up a little, and now there’s no mistaking the sounds coming out of Jason. He’s sure the rapid slaps of skin on skin as he hammers against Jason’s ass are obvious to anyone listening in, but the sweet, sweet gasps, whimpers and choked off moans are the real giveaways.

He would shut him up if Jason were anybody else, as he usually finds those sorts of noises annoying—people always think he’d be pleased with forced, ear-grating, exaggerated moans and useless, boring pornographic talk—but there’s something so sincere with the way he tries holding back, only to fail because of his inexperience. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jason were actually a virgin—in every single way.

He could come at the thought.

Big, tough Red Hood. Always wanting things to go his way, always wanting to be in control. Still so incredibly young and stubborn. Roman wouldn’t be surprised if he was saving himself for someone special, for _the one._ Seems like exactly the kind of thing a soft soul like Jason would do.

Oh well. Virgin or not, he’s taking something special from Jason today, and he doesn’t plan on this being the first and only time.

“So tight,” Roman breathes, slowing to grind his hips in circles and really enjoy the feeling of Jason squirming around him.

He gives a few hard thrusts, watching Jason’s soft pecs bounce with the movement, then without warning, pulls out and forces Jason to turn onto his front, on his hands and knees. He spreads Jason’s ass cheeks apart, tapping lightly on his hole to watch it wink at him.

“God, perfect fucking slut,” he says reverently. “Maybe I should just let everyone in so they can watch you take it, let ‘em have a go at your ass.”

Jason makes a noise of protest that turns into a loud moan when Roman slides in. He covers his mouth with his hand, but it’s too late. The people next door _definitely_ heard that. His entire body tenses up like he’s expecting someone to come in immediately, so while he’s distracted, Roman grabs him tight around the waist and pulls him onto his cock, tugging him back and forth like he’s just a doll Roman can do whatever he wants to.

Jason reaches back with his free arm, trying to grab hold of Roman, but Roman snatches it up and holds it behind his back.

“They can hear,” Jason sobs, but he doesn’t put any more effort into stopping Roman.

“I know,” Roman says, and he pushes down on Jason’s shoulders until his upper body lays flat against the table, and Jason arches his back, automatically propping up his ass like the whore he was born to be.

He ruts against Jason’s ass, and though Jason’s sobbing _stop_ and _no,_ his moans are much, much louder.

“Careful, Red. Any louder and they might think you’re _enjoying_ this.”

Jason can’t seem to lift his head up. “I’m not— _ahh_ — _fuck_ —!”

“Do you need assistance in there?” A voice says through the curtain.

Roman grits his teeth when he sees the silhouette come up to the curtain. A worker who hasn’t been informed of his requests, maybe, someone he’s missed.

“We’re fine,” he says gruffly, unwilling to let up even for a second.

The worker pokes his nosy head in anyway, his face immediately turning to shock. “Oh! Oh, god—”

“David!” someone behind him exclaims, and he’s pulled away, the curtain falling back into place.

Jason turns his face away, too embarrassed now to even say anything.

“See that? You’re a slut, you didn’t keep your mouth shut ‘cause you wanted someone to come in and see you, isn’t that right?”

Jason shakes his head.

“No, huh? Then why don’t you stop me? You’ve already been caught, he’s probably gonna go and tell everyone—I got nothing on you now, so why don’t you fuckin’ stop me?”

Jason takes a shaky breath that makes his entire midsection tense up, and when one of his breaths chokes off in a whine, Roman realises he isn’t just shaking—he’s sobbing. Crying like the sensitive boy Roman has always known he is inside.

Poor Jason. Poor boy. Roman knows too many like him. But, thankfully, he knows what they all need—a firm hand, someone to guide them, to give them the attention they’ve never had, but which they unknowingly crave. After that, it’s all too easy to get them to do whatever he wants. Boys like Jason _love_ the approval. They’ll do whatever it takes to make their master happy.

So even though Jason shakes and cries and protests, Roman can feel him squeezing around his dick, trying to make himself feel as tight as possible, trying to coax Roman to come inside him.

Dear lord. Roman might already favour this one, but this just makes him want to _spoil_ him.

He leans back and grabs Jason around the waist, pulling him onto his cock, and he doesn’t stop—not until he gives Jason exactly what he deserves. Jason doesn’t even seem to be hiding his noises now—he keens and cries as Roman plows his fucking ass, and Roman thinks he hears a _‘daddy’_ amongst all the distress.

When he looks back, his lips bitten red and cheeks stained with tears, Roman’s breath seizes and he comes immediately, thrusting hard against him until he can’t feel his fucking legs.

He pulls out and watches the come spill out of Jason’s hole, running down his perineum to his balls. And Christ—even after being neglected down there he’s still surprisingly hard.

He flips him over once more; Jason doesn’t utter a sound. He just stares up at Roman, fucked out and used.

Roman grins at the sight. Only one thing left.

***

Roman leans down, and Jason can feel the cool, hard leather of his mask against his cheek as he whispers in his ear, “Come.”

Jason grits his teeth. “I can’t.”

“Why not.”

“I’m fucking—I fucking _can’t_ with all these people around.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Jason would throw a punch square in his face if he weren’t feeling so drained.

“I won’t,” he growls. “So let me go now.”

Roman, who’s never shown much reciprocation except for the rare handy, has never offered to suck Jason’s dick before. So Jason isn’t expecting to feel the warm, familiar mouth being wrapped around his cock.

He’s blindsided by the surge of pleasure the feel of that mouth brings him, and the soft tongue combined with Roman’s fingers stuffed inside his ass, digging deep like there’s buried treasure in there, brings him to the edge almost immediately.

He comes hard, and he is treated to another surprise when he feels Roman sucking his come into his mouth.

He lies there, panting hard as Roman removes his fingers and mouth and shuffles around the table.

He feels a thumb pull at his lips, then the splatter of come, and then he realises what Roman has done.

His first instinct is to spit it back out at him, but Roman acts quickly and pushes his softening cock into Jason’s mouth again, pushing the come along with it.

He gags a little, both at the thought of Roman spitting his own come back into his mouth and at the feeling of Roman’s cock being rammed halfway down his throat, but he ends up swallowing it all.

“See?” Roman says, smug. “You came.”

He sits up, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that.”

“I’m aware.”

“Good. You owe me. A _lot.”_

“I owe this sauna a good deal of hush money. You’re so damn loud.”

“That wasn’t _my_ fault—”

“Perhaps if I pay them off they’ll let me do this again.”

“Might as well just buy the whole damn spa, you pervert.”

Roman goes curiously quiet.

“Oh no,” Jason says, slightly panicked, “that was a joke. Don’t buy the spa.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not going to buy the spa.”

Jason sighs in relief, but Roman’s cruel smirk widens.

“I’ll just build one.”

***

**Author's Note:**

>  **Warnings:** Roman non-consensually gropes Jason and pressures him into sex. Jason is also non-consensually felt up by an OC. Jason doesn't want to have sex and says no multiple times, but Roman forces him to anyway.
> 
> I've been to a day spa and it was nothing like this but let's pretend one that incorporates the settings of a Japanese gay spa porno exists, shall we lmao


End file.
